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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29298939">A Minty Conundrum</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topaz_Eyes/pseuds/Topaz_Eyes'>Topaz_Eyes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elementary</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>3 Sentence Ficathon, Case Fic, F/M, Prompt Fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:07:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,208</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29298939</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topaz_Eyes/pseuds/Topaz_Eyes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An argument over candy leads to some interesting revelations.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joan Watson/Sherlock Holmes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Minty Conundrum</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Rthstewart’s <a href="https://rthstewart.dreamwidth.org/166704.html">Three Sentence Ficathon</a> on Dreamwidth: <i>Any, any, peppermint and wintergreen</i> from Anonymous.  The original is posted <a href="https://rthstewart.dreamwidth.org/166704.html?thread=9714736#cmt9714736">here</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sherlock and Joan had been working for sixty-four hours straight on their latest investigation, and tempers were beginning to fray.</p><p>“Look, all we can buy you is another forty-eight hours,” Marcus had informed Joan as they climbed the stairs to their primary suspect’s residence with an arrest warrant, early on a bitter, cold Saturday.  “We take him in now, he has to be arraigned first thing Monday morning.  If we don’t have enough evidence to charge him by eight a.m. Monday, we’ll have to release him.”</p><p>“And then he flies in the wind,” Joan had said, and sighed.  “All right.  We’ll find something you can use.”</p><p>“Yeah, I hope so,” Marcus replied, and rang the doorbell.</p><p>Now, however, the clock was ticking and they still hadn’t uncovered conclusive evidence to implicate their suspect.</p><p>“Wake up, Watson!” Sherlock snapped, whacking the arm of her chair where she’d momentarily drifted off.  “We have but four hours remaining until our suspect enjoys his freedom once again.”</p><p>“I am awake, Sherlock,” Joan protested, “I’m just resting my eyes.”  She blinked to clear them, pushing back an incipient sleep-deprived headache.</p><p>“Excellent!  Now that your eyes are well rested, let’s review our case again from the top.”</p><p>Joan yawned as she stared at their pin board.  Sherlock began, “John Maser, forty-three years old, CEO and spokesman of Top Performance Nutraceuticals, was found unresponsive in his office by his executive assistant three weeks ago.”</p><p>Joan blinked blearily at the notes in her lap, trying to focus on the squiggly print.  “Attempts at resuscitation were unsuccessful.  Autopsy showed massive pulmonary and cerebral edema and acidosis.  The toxicology report confirmed lethal levels of salicylate in his blood and tissues.”</p><p>“But with no obvious evidence of the manner by which he died,” Sherlock finished.  He pinched his nose and sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.  “Though Maser’s executive assistant was convinced his death was not accidental.”</p><p>“We do have a possible motive.  Forensic analysis found irregularities in the company’s financial records suggesting that Maser’s brother Andrew, vice-chair of the board and COO, was embezzling significant sums of cash from the accounts.  Unfortunately, searches of the brother’s work and home offices as yet have found nothing to implicate him in either the stolen money or the suspicious death.”</p><p>“Proof of financial malfeasance is not proof of murder,” Sherlock said, “but the interviews of colleagues and employees also suggest they had less than a congenial sibling relationship.”</p><p>“Enough to justify murder?” Joan asked.</p><p>They fell silent, staring at their evidence board, until Joan said quietly, “Sherlock, perhaps we should focus on the circumstances of the victim’s death for now.”</p><p>Sherlock nodded.  “I agree.  What do we know of our victim’s personal life?”</p><p>Joan adjusted her glasses and consulted her notes.  “John Maser had no other surviving family except his brother Andrew,” she said.</p><p>“We also know he was a dedicated marathon runner who ran a minimum of fifty miles a week.  By all accounts, when he wasn’t working he was training.”  Sherlock pointed to a number of pictures of Maser participating in various long-distance races.</p><p>“At his training level, he would have experienced frequent discomfort,” Joan pointed out.  “Muscle, joint, and tendon pain, sprains, strains, tendinitis.  Most of it can be relieved by rest, ice, and/or various over-the-counter products--”</p><p>“Many of which contain salicylates as the active ingredient,” Sherlock muttered.</p><p>“Unintentional aspirin overdose is most likely, and would explain the lethal levels of salicylate in the tox report–”</p><p>“No evidence of aspirin was found in his stomach contents on autopsy, or anywhere in his office or home.”</p><p>“Perhaps he inadvertently used too much topical liniment to alleviate pain from exercise-induced musculoskeletal injuries.  Salicylate overdose from liniment is rare but does happen, especially if Maser applied wraps or heat to improve dermal penetration, or he applied it on compromised skin.”</p><p>Sherlock, however, hadn’t seemed to hear her.  “The last item of food Maser ingested was a number of partially crushed white peppermint candies.”</p><p>She arched an eyebrow.  “Are we sure they were peppermints?”</p><p>“The pathologist identified them as such, yes.”</p><p>Joan rubbed her temple and frowned at Sherlock’s dismissive tone, then reached over towards the end table, where she kept a roll of wintergreen Lifesavers in the drawer.  She plucked one from the roll; she would have to replace them soon, she thought, there were only two left.  She stuck the Lifesaver in her mouth and let it dissolve, savouring its sweet, mint-like flavour.</p><p>“Did he confirm them by chemical analysis?” Joan spoke through the dissolving candy.  “Maybe they weren’t peppermints.  Or not just peppermints.”  She unwrapped the remaining two Lifesavers and idly held them under the light of the full-spectrum lamp.</p><p>“We need something concrete to bring to the Captain and Marcus in exactly three point five hours, Watson.  Less supposition and more grounding, please.”</p><p>“People mistake the aroma and taste of wintergreen for mint all the time,” Joan said tightly.  “Could the pathologist simply have--?”</p><p>“I have no reason to doubt his work in this investigation.”</p><p>Joan’s severely sleep-deprived patience snapped and she jumped to her feet.</p><p>“Peppermint and wintergreen are not the same flavour, Sherlock!” Joan shouted, fed up with Sherlock’s increasingly patronizing tone.  “Here, I’ll prove it to you!”</p><p>Joan popped the two remaining Lifesavers and crunched them, generating a brief flash of electric blue light that was visible in the dim room.  Sherlock startled, then peered closer at Joan’s mouth, his eyebrow raised.  “What was that?”</p><p>Still seeing red, however, Joan swallowed the candy down, then with no further thought she reached up, seized Sherlock’s head with both hands, and kissed him thoroughly, before she pulled back and added peevishly, “You may be thinking peppermint, but this is what wintergreen tastes like.”</p><p>Joan exhaled, then blinked as she realized what she’d just done.  A long, awkward silence followed and they stared wide-eyed at each other, until Sherlock cleared his throat to break the spell.</p><p>“Oh my God,” Joan whispered, her cheeks reddening, and she covered her mouth with her hand as she looked away.  “Sherlock, I didn’t--”</p><p>But Sherlock, gazing over Joan’s shoulder, appeared thoughtful.  “Peppermint flavouring is, properly speaking, a combination of menthol, menthone, and other related esters.  Watson, what is the chemical composition of wintergreen again?”</p><p>“Methyl salicylate,” she said dully, still squirming at the thought that she’d kissed Sherlock on the mouth to prove a point.</p><p>“Yes, of course,” he muttered.  Sherlock pulled a witness affidavit from their stack of papers.  His eyes lit up as he read it over, and he nodded at her when he finished.  “I believe John Maser was most likely murdered.  We have the proof right here.”  He waved the affidavit at her in triumph, then looked contrite and added sincerely, “My apologies, Watson, for doubting your most excellent instincts.”</p><p>“That’s okay, we’re both exhausted.”  Joan sighed with relief that they’d finally gotten somewhere, and reached into her pocket for her cell phone.  “I’ll call Marcus.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~~~</p>
</div><p>Joan, Marcus, Andrew Maser, and his lawyer were gathered around the table in the interview room at the precinct.</p><p>“You can’t prove anything,” Andrew Maser said with a distinctly smug air, “John’s death was accidental.  I had nothing to do with it or the missing money.”</p><p>“We’re not concerned about the embezzlement right now,” Marcus said, “so let’s stay on topic.”</p><p>“Your brother’s executive assistant described him as a connoisseur of peppermint pastilles in her witness statement,” Sherlock noted from his perch by the door to the room.  “They had worked closely together for many years, and she knew which brands of confections he preferred.  Yet she did not recognize the candy he ate that evening as any of his customary varieties.”</p><p>“They were a product sample from a new supplier to our company,” Maser replied.  “Custom made by a small confectionery in Pennsylvania.”</p><p>“We’ll need the contact information for the candy shop to confirm,” Marcus said.</p><p>“Of course.  We’ll get it to you as soon as our interview is over.”</p><p>“On the evening before John Maser died, when she last saw and spoke to him, our witness described small flashes of blue light as he bit into several peppermints in a row,” Joan said, continuing Sherlock’s line of reasoning.  “This is a phenomenon called ‘triboluminescence.’  It’s the production of light when a solid material is subjected to mechanical force, such as rubbing, ripping, scratching, or crushing.”</p><p>Maser cocked his head.  “So?  What does this have to do with John’s death?”</p><p>“Hard wintergreen candies emit a blue fluorescence when crunched in the mouth,” Sherlock interjected, “which is readily observable under the right conditions.  The chemical responsible for this effect is methyl salicylate, otherwise known as oil of wintergreen.  This is what our witness observed while John Maser masticated his sweets.  In contrast, plain peppermint candies do not visibly fluoresce.  Thus we know that your brother consumed a large number of peppermint candies containing methyl salicylate before he died.”</p><p>“Wintergreen candy is not toxic when consumed in moderate amounts.  Most deaths from salicylate toxicity today occur by aspirin overdose,”  Joan said.</p><p>“John never took aspirin, it upset his stomach,” Maser said.</p><p>“However, at least one athlete has previously died from overuse of muscle rubs containing methyl salicylate,” she continued, “in 2007 on Staten Island.”</p><p>“I remember reading about that one,” Marcus said.  “Most liniments have a distinctive smell, you can’t miss it.”</p><p>“The pungent odour of most liniments derives from methyl salicylate which is the active pain-relief ingredient,” Sherlock said.</p><p>“Unscented over-the-counter liniments usually contain trolamine salicylate, which is odorless,” Joan said. “We talked to John’s trainer and his current running partners.  According to them, he used unscented rubs exclusively because of his many business dealings.”</p><p>“And you would also have known this, Mr. Maser; according to our witnesses, prior to your disagreement and falling out with John last year, you were his primary running partner,” Sherlock stated.</p><p>Joan noted a nervous twitch in Maser’s jaw.  “John was a chronic user of odorless OTC liniments,” Joan replied, “which over several years of use led to an elevated concentration of salicylate in his body.  Not enough to be immediately dangerous, but high enough that an acute dose of salicylate by mouth would tip it into the lethal range.  Say, by artisanal peppermints that included a significant concentration of oil of wintergreen in their recipe.”</p><p>“This is all conjecture on your part,” Maser replied, his demeanour sliding from smug to wary.</p><p>“We re-analyzed the stomach contents to confirm our hypothesis.  We also obtained another search warrant for your residence, where we found these in your kitchen cupboard.”  Marcus held up a small baggie containing a number of white, round candies.</p><p>“Would you like one, Mr. Maser?” Sherlock said brightly, his hands stuffed in his pockets.  “They really are quite tasty.  My compliments to the confectioner.”</p><p>“We sent a sample of the candy for chemical analysis,” Joan said.  “What’s the likelihood that it’ll match the ones found in your brother’s stomach?”</p><p>The smirk fell off Maser’s face and he stared down at the table.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~~~</p>
</div><p>In the hall outside the interview room, after Marcus had taken Andrew Maser to processing, Sherlock and Joan were donning their winter coats when Captain Gregson exited the observation room next door and approached them.</p><p>“Peppermint candies spiked with wintergreen.  How did you figure that out?”</p><p>“A high-spirited discussion on confectionery flavourings,” Sherlock said blandly, while Joan continued to don her beret and scarf, studiously avoiding Sherlock’s gaze.</p><p>“I bet it was high-spirited.” Gregson nodded slowly, waiting for a reply, but neither Sherlock nor Joan elaborated further, so after a moment he continued, “the chemical analysis came back, and you were right.  Methyl salicylate, peppermint extract, and sugar, same as the remnants of candy retrieved from John Maser’s stomach.  Andrew Maser’s fingerprints were found all over the bag and matched fingerprints taken from the victim’s locked desk drawers. Along with the autopsy, tox report, statements and financials, we’ve got a case.  Good work.”</p><p>“Splendid,” Sherlock said, satisfied, and he rocked on his heels.</p><p>“That’s great news,” Joan said, looking back at Gregson.</p><p>“Yeah.  He’ll be pleading in front of a judge shortly.”  Gregson peered at them both, then shrugged.  “You both look like you could use about three days worth of sleep.  Go home.  I don’t want to see either of you until Thursday.”  He went to his office and shut the door.</p><p>Sherlock grinned his lopsided grin.  “Well, Watson, perhaps we should heed the Captain’s most excellent advice.”</p><p>“I could use a three-day nap,” Joan admitted, finally allowing herself the yawn she’d been repressing since they’d arrived at the precinct.</p><p>Sherlock leaned down.  “After which we, could, er, continue certain aspects of our previous culinary conversation,” he murmured in her ear, “if you were so inclined.”  He drew back and regarded her with a soft, hopeful expression as he wound his plaid muffler around his neck.</p><p>Joan blinked at him, feeling her cheeks pinken at his proposition, and her heart sped up despite her exhaustion.  “All right,” she said, “sleep first, and then--” she trailed off and they smiled shyly at each other.</p><p>“Shall we?” Sherlock said, briefly touching the small of her back with his fingertips.  They strode together out of the precinct into the chilly morning.</p>
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